Sunday, March 16, 2008

Shattered

Here I am at his house, staring at the shattered picture frameThe air is tense, and I am alreadyon the way to escape out into the streetscapeI drink some cold water sitting on the counter which alters moodsand seems to have given my thoughts time to settle and to sinkIn. The streets look for a friend, a sign, or me, I myself am weak and I'm sorry, I just can't leave, Its just too difficult to do, too difficult on me. I thinkthrough it, them, aswe laughed together sipped on coffee at the shop now4 years almost ago, and the man who came in every morning , making the same order, listening to stories & telling.Who would have thought that I'd be here, nothingcomplete and have lost almost, everythingAnd everything that had ever mattered, love, passion, life, mentality goes,Up in the air and bursts into flames when I need them, now more than ever before?Not that you ever cared for me before, at age 16, in the drenched, weathered coateyes penetrating into the depths of your soul& crying in shame. Not that kid who never made it past preteen, who wasgoing to have to go, careening into the cement structure so, To die, & to never mature, to live, to love, imagine so to go.Not that lover who from very first meetingI would never & never want to live without until we are buriedinto the earth inside our caskets & so demandedTo love & who will never leave me, not for money, nor religion,nor even the pretty girl next door which isOnly our human lot & means everything. No, not her.There's a song, "Join Me In Death", but no, I won't do thatI am weary. When will I die? I will never die. I will liveTo be absolete, & I will never go away, & you will never escape from mewho am always & only a woman despite this primal rage. SpiritWho lives only to weep.I'm only one person, & I am heart broken, & I didn't expect to be betrayedI came into your life to be your only one,the only muse,the only one you seeNow its over & I guess thats just fate, neverthelessI will always see only youThe world's riches and beauties mean nothing anymore.

1 comment:

A fun assignment. I enjoyed filling in the blanks just as Ted Berrigan did when he first created the "Red Shift" poem. I enjoy the creative aspect of the assignment. Even inspired me to try using the same method by choosing an article and crossing out random words. Lots of fun!